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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24900187">the law of three</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaystrifes/pseuds/jaystrifes'>jaystrifes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: The Last Airbender</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bloodbending (Avatar), Dancing, Dreams, F/M, Flirting, Formalwear, Hurt/Comfort, Inappropriate Use of Bending (Avatar), Jealousy, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Nightmares, Picnics, Pre-Poly, Relationship Advice, Secret Relationship, Sparring, Temperature Play, Temporary Character Death, parenting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:28:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,395</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24900187</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaystrifes/pseuds/jaystrifes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of zutaraang drabbles/ficlets for a prompt challenge on the blog <a href="https://zutaraangtastic.tumblr.com/">(@zutaraangtastic)</a>.</p><p>From the latest chapter: "Consciously or not, Aang curls his arm more protectively around her stomach. Zuko lets her pillow her cheek in his palm and eases closer to kiss her. She drapes her leg over his to keep him there, his warm breath mingling with hers and his other hand resting over her back. Once he’s joined Aang in slumber, her eyes finally fall shut. Their hands are soft, tangible, and the sharpest burning details of the nightmare start to fade to cinders at the edges of her mind."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aang/Katara (Avatar), Aang/Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Aang/Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. breathtaking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p><a href="https://zutaraangtastic.tumblr.com/post/621211187381764096/idk-if-its-too-late-to-submit-a-prompt-but-i">Prompt asked for inappropriate use of bending</a> - contains (sfw) breathplay and bloodbending. Katara and Aang tag along with Zuko to a Fire Nation gala in the heat of summer, and make themselves rather distracting for him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The occasion is some fancy function in the Fire Nation, honoring a cousin of the royal family whose support for Zuko’s reign would carry some weight with the lesser nobles. It’s just bad luck that the evening social comes in the middle of a rare, full week that Aang and Katara have been able to take off to spend with their dear Fire Lord. Of course, they weren’t just going to stay behind and let him go without them. Two extra high-profile guests, the world’s greatest waterbending master and the Avatar, could only help Zuko’s efforts to impress.</p><p>The couple arrives fashionably late on Appa, needing a little extra time to fit the dress code – they hadn’t come here expecting to attend a gala, so they raided Zuko’s closet and combined their findings with some reasonably priced streetwear from the city.</p><p>The moment Zuko sees them, it’s hard to look away.</p><p>Katara is draped in a simple wine-red gown, with an open slit halfway up her thigh and a golden sash wrapped around her waist. Her brown shoulders are bare, though she wears two unattached wide sleeves, secured at her upper arms just beneath the rise of her biceps. Aang, too, has a lot on display, decked out in a flowing, scarlet, gold-trimmed hanfu skirt without a complete robe over the top. A yellow shawl thrown over one shoulder, tucked into the waist at the front and back, leaves half his chest exposed and allows a peek at the other side even beneath the covering.</p><p>Zuko’s always enjoyed seeing them in his colors – on Aang, they’re so fitting, only a step to the left from the usual warm tones of his air nomad garb; on Katara, they’re wonderfully surprising, contrasting with her striking blue eyes and her mother’s necklace.</p><p>Their clothes are bold choices for a formal event, but it’s the thick of summer, and nobody could blame them for dressing lightly in the heat. Zuko feels conspicuously overdressed by comparison. Even near twilight, with a full moon rising in the sky, it’s oppressive. Besides, their fashion statements can be taken as that – statements. Soon enough, the whole Fire Nation will be trying to replicate the outfits they wear tonight.</p><p>After greeting the host, they find Zuko and a quiet spot away from the throng of people, sharing private, eager smiles all around.</p><p>“You look…amazing,” Zuko says, and mentally kicks himself for not being able to come up with something more eloquent.</p><p>Aang grins, catching his moment of regret, and says, “Really, just amazing? Katara’s <em> breathtaking</em>.”</p><p>Katara leans against her husband, holding his arm and smiling up at him. “I think you’re mixing your metaphors, sweetie.” She reaches out to take Zuko’s hand, lacing their fingers together. To any spectator, it might seem like only a familiar gesture of friendship, but the way their gazes meet speaks volumes. “He’s the breathtaking one, don’t you think, Zuko?”</p><p>“Well, yeah, so in that case, you’re – refreshing. Like a cold drink! Of, uh, water, or something.”</p><p>“I’ll take the ‘or something,’” Katara says, laughing. “The cat-owl’s really got your tongue tonight, Your Fieriness.”</p><p>“Or is it Your Hotness?” Aang asks with a look of faux intellectualism. “He has so many titles, I can hardly keep track. I guess that’s what you get for being the best Fire Lord who ever lived.”</p><p>He snags Katara that drink from a passing server – he doesn’t partake himself, but he knows it’s a sure way to get her to dance and have a good time. Zuko’s face is mildly red even without any alcohol, and Aang takes full advantage of the chance to fluster him further, sidling closer to bump their shoulders together. “You’re lucky Sokka’s not here to razz you about sharpening your <em> wordbending </em> skills.”</p><p>Zuko rolls his eyes, but he’s acutely aware of the jump of his heartbeat, Aang’s strong arm around him, Katara giggling at them both over the rim of her glass. He clears his throat. “You know, that’s how you know I mean it when I say you look good,” he says. “Because it’s not just anyone who can leave me speechless.”</p><p>Katara’s expression softens fondly, and she thinks if she’d had a little more sparkling wine by now she’d try to kiss him, secrecy be damned. Instead, she squeezes his hand and says, “<em>There’s </em> the smooth romantic deep inside you!”</p><p>“Speechless, huh?” Aang echoes, with a sneaky look on his face.</p><p>He doesn’t really think it through – it’s just an impulse, the same as the game of juggling a small fireball back and forth with a shivering Zuko at the South Pole, or passing by a fountain in Republic City with Katara and sprinkling her hair with water. Aang steals the breath from Zuko’s lungs just briefly, not long enough to hurt, but long enough to make him touch a hand to his throat before Aang allows him a normal inhale.</p><p>“How’s <em> that </em> for speechless?”</p><p>Zuko opens his mouth, closes it again, and there’s a stunned shine to his eyes and a distinct flush high on his cheeks that reminds Aang of a very different kind of play than he had in mind. More of the kind that happens in the bedroom, when Katara makes Zuko’s every muscle arch with bloodbending, when Aang trails a little spark of lightning across Zuko’s chest.</p><p>“Don’t – don’t you dare say anything,” Zuko warns, avoiding eye contact and tugging at the collar of his robes, suddenly too warm. “We’ll pick this up later.”</p><p>Katara and Aang exchange a look as Zuko disentangles himself from their affectionate holds and darts away to socialize with the nobles he came here to appease.</p><p>“Look at you, discovering a whole new way to embarrass him,” Katara says. “In public, no less. You’re going to cause a scandal if you’re not careful.”</p><p>Aang blinks a few times, still trying to process what happened. How has he never thought to use airbending like that before? Why did Zuko <em> like </em> it? He chuckles and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. Zuko’s going to kill me, just for this.”</p><p>“And you’re looking forward to it, I bet. You’re the one who always wants to play ‘capture the Avatar.’ Maybe I’ll ally with Zuko this time – he’s going to need all the help he can get.” </p><p>Katara smirks up at Aang, who blushes and looks away. Subtly, she twists one hand, and he stiffens at the strange sensation as she gently pulls at his blood. She leads him out to a clear space on the floor, bathed in a pool of moonlight, and Aang smiles, his ears tinged pink as she makes him bow and invite her to dance.</p><p>Not by coincidence, they end up in the perfect spot to catch Zuko’s attention. He’s composed himself enough to keep up an amiable conversation with his cousin’s husband, but his eyes keep straying to Aang and Katara, twirling each other back and forth with the aid of the cool night breeze and – is Katara <em> bloodbending </em> him? Zuko shakes his head. Breathtaking, indeed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. interweave</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p><a href="https://zutaraangtastic.tumblr.com/post/621836859696414720/for-the-prompt-thing-how-about-ihro-giving">Two prompts for this ficlet</a>: one on jealousy, one on Iroh giving relationship advice. Katara in her late teens wonders about the nature of Aang's friendship with Zuko, and her own feelings for both of them, while helping Iroh at the Jasmine Dragon. Pre-poly zutaraang.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They’re washing dishes after the Jasmine Dragon’s doors close for the day, Katara bending water into two basins and Zuko’s uncle burning a block of wood for scrub ash. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the South they use soap fats and fishbone scrapers, but it’s interesting to watch a firebender’s method. Iroh heats up the water in the first basin and stirs the ash in it, then takes up a rough cloth and the nearest teacups, dipping them both in the grayish water. He doesn’t let Katara do much of the work for him, despite her insistence that she wants to help. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The scraping – scrubbing – is always the most calming part to her, something she used to throw herself into when Sokka got on her nerves, subjecting her hands to aggressive, numbing repetition that allowed her to think. With enough force, the water usually scraped everything away for her once she learned to control her bending. Still, there was something satisfying about the manual labor, the raw knuckles and wrinkled fingertips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unlike her, Iroh doesn’t clean the dishes with any urgency, taking time and care with each cup and spoon. He hands them to her, and she plunks them into the second basin for a final rinse before she lines them up to dry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It isn’t uncomfortable, being alone with him, but it’s also unusual – normally, her visits with him are visits with Zuko. This one is too, technically, except that Zuko and Aang are still off at Ba Sing Se’s Culture Day festival. She and Aang had run their own stall this year, with Southern cuisine and air nomad drums, and closed a little early so he’d have time to visit the other attractions. Their notoriety had drawn crowds all day, and Katara excused herself to go back to the tea shop instead when they were done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Besides, Aang has Zuko to keep him company, anyways. It had been fun to spend the day with them both, but it was like there was something tense underneath it all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katara breaks the easy quiet with a quick, deep breath. “General Iroh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughs at that, not unkindly, but heartily, with his whole belly. “Please, it has been years since my retirement. Allow me to enjoy it. You can call me Uncle, as your friends do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uncle Iroh, then,” she corrects herself, resting her hands on the edge of the basin while she waits for the next dishes. “Can I ask you something, about Zuko?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ahh. I suppose a little gossip will do no harm,” he says. “What is it that’s on your mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think he likes someone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Likes someone? Sure! I know he likes his friends. He may still be grumpy sometimes, but I assure you, he was much more hostile before he met all of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katara smiles, but shakes her head. “No – well, yes, I mean, I’m glad. But I guess what I’m asking is, has there been anyone special in his life? Since Mai?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm.” Iroh turns his attention to removing a particularly difficult sugar stain from a cup as he considers her question. “I am afraid it would be a violation of his trust to speak too openly about his personal life, which is to say, if he had a personal life to speak of. He devotes much of his time to his duties, perhaps too much. If he keeps any company in private, I do not know of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Iroh passes her the cup in the palm of his hand, his copper eyes curious. “I don’t mean to pry, but you seem troubled, Katara. Is all well with you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just…” She sighs. “I wish I knew how to read him. There are all these – rumors, and even what I’ve seen for myself, that make me wonder if…if Aang might be better off spending more time with him, than with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She thinks of Aang’s easy laughter, and the way it made Zuko smile more freely, too, the two of them escaping the world for a day with a little less weight on their shoulders. The way Aang’s eyes softened, and the confusing pull on Katara’s own heart, when they watched Zuko hand a raspberry ice cone she made to a small child, his expression kind and indulgent as he urged the little one to try it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t make sense. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>loves</span>
  </em>
  <span> Aang. And she knows he loves her. But what if she’s holding him back from something else he wants? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And what does </span>
  <em>
    <span>Zuko</span>
  </em>
  <span> want? Aang always seems jealous when Katara spends time alone with the Fire Lord, but why does she feel the same when Aang does? She doesn’t even know who’s jealous of who anymore!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katara isn’t aware of the tears filling her vision until Iroh puts a gentle hand on her shoulder, and his face blurs when she looks at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do know Zuko, better than you think, because the two of you are much alike. He is not a selfish man, and he would not do anything to hurt you, or Aang.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rubs at her eyes with the heel of her hand, nodding. “I know, you’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a beat of silence, Iroh reaches into a pocket of his outer robe and produces a short cord of braided yarn, unraveling it to the knot. “I have taken up a new hobby recently, and there is something I have discovered.” He begins to demonstrate, taking two of the strands and leaving one out. “If you do not want to use as much yarn, you can make something nice out by twisting together only two pieces.” He pulls the new cord taut, then relaxes it, allowing the gaps to show. Then, he starts over again. “But see, the braid is stronger when made up of all three strands. It does not waver when given slack, nor can it be pulled apart so easily.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katara blinks and opens her mouth, then closes it, unsure of his meaning. Is he suggesting that she, and Aang, and Zuko, could all…?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can braid, too,” she says, instead of voicing her question. It’s something she learned at a young age, the same as cooking, and washing these dishes, and all the other things men are seldom asked to do. Especially not royalty. Iroh’s humility is refreshing – and not for the first time, she recalls how much Zuko takes after him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, do you think you could do my hair sometime? I have tried, but it is a little hard to reach in the back.” Iroh laughs, putting the cord away and taking up the first basin to go drain it in his garden beside the shop. “I am just kidding, of course!” he calls behind him. “I would not ask you to make my head look pretty, because by now, I am pretty sure it is already a lost cause.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling, she finishes drying the last cups and spoons, and when Iroh returns for the second basin, she says, “Thank you, for your advice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t remember giving much advice – just an old man’s rambling, if my nephew asks,” he says with a genial wink. “But, perhaps I can add this: the best way to know another’s feelings is by asking them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll keep it in mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While he’s in the garden, Zuko and Aang return, the two of them aglow with the setting sun behind them through the doorway. Aang’s arm is around Zuko’s shoulders, and Katara thinks that beneath the nervous doubt in her stomach, there’s warmth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zuko catches her eye and immediately draws nearer to tell her all about the last stalls they visited before the festival’s closing, and Aang gives her an exaggerated kiss on the cheek. For one brief moment, the three of them standing here together, wreathed in the aroma of Iroh’s teas, feels like something perfectly woven.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. ideal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p><a href="https://zutaraangtastic.tumblr.com/post/626387982283358208/imagine-your-polyship-adopting-a-cat-together-and">Prompt asked for cat adoption</a>. Zuko, Aang, and Katara rescue a feral ferret-cat trapped in the palace garden while trying to manage their children, who want to keep it as a pet.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>While waiting for the rest of his family and a picnic lunch to arrive in the garden, Zuko notices Izumi crouched in the dirt. Normally, she’d be sitting on the bench, reading in the shade—unlike Kya, who’s laughing wildly and kicking around in the fountain, thriving in the hot Fire Nation sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zuko humors her, lets her splash him and treats her to some slow and easy firebending counter-moves that make her wobbly water whips sizzle into steam. It was refreshing and cooled him off at first, but it has gotten a little tedious to keep drying his robes every five minutes. He’s not dressed for play, just stealing an hour away from the day’s endless succession of formal meetings to spend some time with his lovers and their visiting children.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(His children, in some way—they’ll have to get all that out in the air sooner rather than later, before the oldest two figure it out on their own. His daughter is too smart for her own good, and Bumi is more observant than Katara or Aang realize.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Izumi still hasn’t moved, so Zuko tells Kya to keep practicing, maintaining a watchful eye on her as he goes to find out what has Izumi’s attention.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears it before he sees it: a small, rumbling growl coming from a dark gap beneath the wooden walkway and the ground. Izumi stretches out a tentative hand, but on instinct Zuko pulls her back just as a set of teeth snap near her fingertips. She yelps in surprise, and his heart jumps into his throat with panic that she might be hurt. Her hands are shaky, but otherwise unscathed. Zuko breathes a sigh of relief.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kya arrives at the site of the commotion, wielding a tenuous rope of water. She lashes it towards the gap and misses, splattering the walkway instead. Izumi jumps to her feet and wards Kya off before she can try again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, don’t hurt it! Avatar Aang says to respect all life!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that, he’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>my</span>
  </em>
  <span> dad!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zuko spots Katara making her way across the garden to them, a welcome sight amid the chaos. While she sorts out the girls’ argument, he lowers his face close to the ground so he can peer into the hole, holding a small flame for light. A ferret-cat is coiled at the deepest end, its feline eyes gleaming at him before it turns its head away and resumes digging, presumably trying to tunnel its way out. It’s hard to tell, but it looks injured, half of its ear torn, its fur dark and wet in places.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It must have wandered into the garden after a fight. There haven’t been any ferret-cat families here in a long time—after how Azula terrorized them, Zuko wasn’t surprised when they disappeared. It’s hard to believe that that childhood, good and bad, is almost 30 years gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s spent much of his time as Fire Lord working to restore relationships between the nations. Restoring one with the local fauna shouldn’t be too great a task.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After she finishes explaining the animal crisis to Kya and Katara, Izumi turns to Zuko with imploring eyes. “Can we help it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zuko smiles and squeezes her hands gently in his. “Of course,” he says, and looks to Katara. “Do you know where Aang is? Earthbending might be most useful here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katara nods. “I was thinking the same thing. He just put Tenzin down for a nap, so he should be on his way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just as she says it, Bumi appears around the corner. He sprints down the colonnade parallel to the garden, with his father chasing behind by air scooter. Judging by his casual poise, Aang isn’t really trying to win their race, unlike Bumi, who arrives sweaty and panting. He nearly trips over Kya, earning him a sharp look from Katara, which goes ignored as he turns and waits with his arms crossed. Aang leans forward to speed up in the last stretch only when he realizes he’s being watched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dissipating the air and landing lightly on his feet, he ruffles Bumi’s hair and says, “Looks like you’re just too fast for your old man!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dad</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” Bumi pulls a face and ducks out of Aang’s grasp. “I told you not to let me win!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you didn’t think you were too old for air scooter rides now, both of us could’ve won.” Aang grins, arms akimbo, and flashes a quick wink at Zuko. “Problem-solving is my middle name, just ask your Uncle Fire Lord. At least </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> listens to me, most of the time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve got one for you, O Wise One,” Katara says, at the same time as Izumi glues herself to Aang’s pants leg and tugs him to see the ferret-cat, explaining how she found it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zuko moves out of the way, gesturing for Bumi to wait his turn. The boy still sulks, but less so when Zuko gets him to talk about his practice training with the palace guards. Getting all fired up about it again, he reenacts some of the kicks and stances he’s learned, and puffs his chest out when Zuko nods approvingly. He barely seems to notice Katara tailing him, attempting to smooth down his hair. Zuko catches her twinkling eyes over Bumi’s head. He fights a smile and tries to stay interested in Bumi’s rambling and cartwheeling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s Kya who sends up the cry when the kitchen servants arrive with lunch. Aang waves for them to start without him, nudging Izumi to go join the others. Katara and Zuko shepherd the kids to their chosen picnic spot under the shade of a maple tree, while Aang sets about fashioning an earthen cage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bumi and Kya chow down eagerly, while Izumi only picks at her rice. She nods when Katara encourages her to eat, but she’s distracted, watching Aang. He sits in lotus on the walkway, waiting patiently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought he was going to earthbend it out,” she says, frowning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe he doesn’t want to scare it,” Zuko suggests. “Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing. If you really want to help, here.” He takes the top off a bowl of steamed meat buns and hands it to Izumi. “Food might coax it out. But you have to eat some of these too, okay? Don’t give them all to the ferret-cat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Izumi jumps to her feet, smiling brightly. Then she pauses and looks from the bowl to Zuko. “But Avatar Aang is vegetarian. Will I hurt his feelings?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katara exchanges a nearly saccharine look with Zuko, her eyes reflecting the melting of his own heart. “It’s okay, honey,” she says, patting Izumi’s hand. “He won’t mind. Uncle Sokka has practically made him immune to the smell of meat, I promise. And, you can tell him we’ve got vegetable buns for him once he rescues the ferret-cat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Izumi nods resolutely and hurries back down the little hill. She lays down a trail of buns leading into the makeshift cage, before sitting next to Aang, painstakingly copying his position. Zuko watches, almost overwhelmed with warmth, as Aang assuages Izumi’s hesitation, gesturing to the food for her to eat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across the picnic blanket from him, Katara wipes Kya’s mouth clean and chides Bumi when he burps, before she releases them, warning that they’ll scare the ferret-cat if they play too loudly. They end up in the fountain where Kya was before, within sight but a safe distance away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katara scoots closer to Zuko, laying a hand over his, and he leans on the other as he twines their fingers together, low enough to stay hidden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Izumi’s really growing up, isn’t she?” she remarks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zuko groans. “Don’t say that, she’s only eight. I want her to stay this way forever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katara laughs lightly. “You’ve done well with her,” she says, and she sounds almost wistful. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wonders if she daydreams as often as he does about a life where they could raise Izumi and the rest together full-time, where they could spend the whole day like this with Aang and their children. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But judging by the sun, edging past its midday zenith, it’s almost time for him to get to his first afternoon meeting. He’s just starting to think he won’t get to see the ferret-cat rescue for himself when a furry white-and-brown head pokes out of the hole. Izumi gasps, and Aang grins at her with a finger to his lips. While the animal busies itself with digging for the meat, he slowly raises the layer of earth it’s on and slides it towards the cage. Zuko and Katara stand to get a better view, and Katara beckons for Bumi and Kya.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The ferret-cat seems to notice the trap at the last second, but Aang earthbends the door into place before it can do anything. Everyone ventures closer once it’s clear that the cage is secure. Katara kneels, drawing water from her satchel and bending it between the gaps in the sides of the box to surround the ferret-cat in a healing blue glow. Izumi speaks soothingly to it while it hisses and squirms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Smiling, Zuko bends to kiss the top of her head. Then he catches Aang by the shoulder, squeezing gently and resisting the urge to drop a kiss there, too. Aang’s eyes are shining as he looks fondly from the children to Zuko. It’s easy to read the gentle pride in his posture—Zuko knows that for all the world-saving and spirit-negotiating and political crisis-averting Aang’s done, he takes the most satisfaction in the small, everyday kindnesses. He’s always had this soft spot for animals especially.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have to go,” Zuko says, “but you know where the physicians’ wing is. I’m sure someone there has some veterinary experience.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aang clasps Zuko’s forearm, hand slipping up his sleeve and thumb caressing the way back down to his wrist. “You’ll find us later?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.” Zuko reluctantly disentangles his hand and looks over his shoulder to add, “Izumi, be good and listen to Uncle Aang and Aunt Katara, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaves the kids discussing names for their new pet, with Katara jokingly suggesting something to do with honor and Aang interjecting that they might need to wait a while before the ferret-cat is ready to be domesticated. Kya and Izumi get into another argument over it, while Bumi unwisely sticks his fingers in through the gaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zuko pauses one last time at the edge of the garden to look at his family, and knows he’ll spend this meeting daydreaming.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(The kataang family absolutely calls the ferret-cat "your honor" - when they visit, it's always "Zuko, have you seen your honor around lately?" and "Zuko, I think your honor is stuck up the tree again." Izumi is too good to make jokes at her dad's expense and she gives it an actual name. Something cute like Hime. Don't get me started on when they find out Hime's pregnant with "honorlings".)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. controlled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p><a href="https://zutaraangtastic.tumblr.com/post/629555262795268096/if-im-not-to-late-to-join-in-on-this">Three prompts combined: temperature play, bloodbending, dom Katara</a> (sfw but suggestive). Zuko, Aang, and Katara spend a moonless night sparring on Air Temple Island, giving Katara the chance to show off a new trick.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The evening air off of Yue Bay is cool, brushing refreshingly over Zuko as he sits on the temple steps and watches Katara and Aang circle each other in the courtyard.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the caress of the breeze gets a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> friendly, billowing through his loose pants and lingering between his thighs, he knows it’s not nature’s doing. He catches Aang smirking in his direction and shakes his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katara takes advantage of the distraction to knock Aang into the fountain with a blast of water. Serves him right, Zuko thinks—he’s just had his own duel with Aang, still sweaty and winded from it, but he certainly wouldn’t be playing around if he was the one who won and had to go up against Katara.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aang launches out of the pool on a jet of his own, stray droplets shimmering off of his graceful trajectory. He turns them into an icy rain to pelt down on Katara’s back before he lands behind her, making Zuko wince sympathetically for her mostly-bare skin. She cries out sharply and grabs at her shoulders. Zuko starts to stand, and Aang freezes before hurrying to her with hands raised in a worried, surrendering gesture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From his angle, Zuko can just barely see her smile, and some of the tension drains from him. He starts to ease back into his seat, but stops in his tracks at the sight before him. Aang is raising his arms high above his head, standing ramrod straight. His shoulders quiver with resistance as they go backwards, and his arms lower to fold together behind his back. When he sinks to his knees, giving Zuko a clear view over his head, Katara is facing Aang, her hands tilted in a familiar position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” Aang says, though it doesn’t exactly sound like a complaint. He tips his head forward—or Katara tips it for him, with a flex of her fingers—to rest against her thigh, blue arrow to brown skin below the simple cloth wrap at her hips. “Wait a minute. You fought dirty!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katara laughs, crystalline and guileful. “You never made me promise not to. All you said was you’d stick to waterbending for me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By now Zuko is no stranger to her bloodbending or its many titillating uses, but something feels off. The courtyard is dark, illuminated only by the lanterns lining its edges. When he sparred with Aang earlier, it seemed so much brighter, their multicolored fire swirling all around. Without it, he realizes it’s a night with no moon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes, blue as dark as the ocean’s crushing depths, find him. He draws towards her and doesn’t know whether it’s of his own will or hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hasn’t been so surprised by her ability since he first saw her demonstrate it, when they hunted down her mother’s killer—and she’s told him about it since then, what it requires of her, how it feels to use for combat, healing, pleasure. But this is a whole new level.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Zuko,” Aang says, struggling to glance up at him, “has she been practicing on you without telling me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Zuko can respond, Katara interrupts, “I honed this all on my own, thank you very much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For people who can’t wait until a full moon for treatment,” Zuko realizes. He’s piecing things together, though his brow remains furrowed. “But how…?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, it’s the same as you being able to firebend at night, even if you’re stronger during the day. Except during the eclipse, you could always </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, right? Just because I can’t see the moon, doesn’t mean it’s not there.” She looks pleased with herself, and probably at Zuko’s half-open mouth. “Maybe Sokka helped a little,” she adds in admission. “Or at least, helped me put words to what I was trying to do. He’s been studying more astronomy from—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is all very interesting, but do you think we could save the details for pillow talk?” Aang asks from below, shifting minutely and restlessly on his knees.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, is someone getting desperate?” Katara croons, turning her keen gaze on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She curls her fingertips and turns her wrist at a different angle, and Aang’s spine straightens again, his legs pushing him up to stand unsteadily. With a gesture of her palm, she backs him up against Zuko’s chest. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s the telltale tingle of her control in Zuko’s veins, too, starting with his arm, and he doesn’t resist it. He notices the sweat beading on Katara’s forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The feeling washes out like the tide, in the middle of raising his hand to wrap across Aang’s neck and shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katara’s mouth tightens with concentration, but Zuko’s arm falls limp. Puzzled, he looks at it, then back at her, flexing his hand to test the sensation and finding unexpected freedom. Normally she can bloodbend him and Aang at the same time with little issue, after years of full moons spent together in their bedrooms—but maybe that’s the problem, that this new form of hers isn’t as strong yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aang seems to pick up on that too, and Zuko can hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “Having trouble?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In one fluid motion, Katara spins Aang so he faces Zuko and wraps his wrists in a tight coil of water behind his back. “I still have other ways to keep you how I want you, sweetie,” she says. “Zuko, be a dear and show him a little fire.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For just a moment, Zuko has the urge to challenge her, the spark of competition that always flickers between them flaring up. But Aang looks perfect like this, restrained and eager and a little on-edge. Over Aang’s shoulder, Katara stares expectantly at the flames that have crackled to life on Zuko’s fingertips, sharing a conspiratorial smile with him. That’s all he needs to decide he wants to play along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While he trails one hot hand up to Aang’s sternum, making him squirm, Katara raises another bubble of water. She shapes it, freezes it in the form of a dagger that she presses between Aang’s shoulders, making him arch his chest. He gasps at the lick of heat to skin, the bracing cold flat of the icy blade down his spine, caught with no escape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zuko fans the fire out to dance tantalizingly across Aang’s collarbones, but almost loses control of it when his body jerks forwards, a different sort of warmth blooming suddenly in the pit of his stomach. He extinguishes it all together, for fear of hurting Aang, until Katara says, low and dangerous, “You’d better not stop.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The throb in his blood is there again, Katara swaying him to press up close to Aang’s front, wobbly legs between legs. Aang exhales a breathy laugh, which turns into a gulp and a shiver with the ice skimming up his throat. Zuko’s eyes linger on Katara for a moment. The focus is clear in the crease of her brow, even as she digs her teeth into Aang’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows he can trust her to keep them all safe, power play aside. His hand lights up again, gently curling hot and orange at Aang’s side, but it slides in the opposite direction than he intends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it was his own folly, to think that he was ever actually out of her control.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yes, I firmly believe Katara would have learned to bloodbend without the moon. She already mastered the basic form at 14, come on.</p><p>Also, if you're here, please go check out <a href="https://zutaraangzine.tumblr.com/">the zutaraang zine blog</a> and fill out the interest check, open until Oct. 30, 2020! I'm helping organize this zine and I'm so excited to make it happen!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. dawning</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p><a href="https://zutaraangtastic.tumblr.com/post/632089115372961792/could-you-do-a-little-drabble-about-zuko-and-aang">Prompt asked for zukaang dreamsharing as a catalyst for their relationship.</a> Aang steals away a nighttime dance with Katara, only to find an unexpectedly real Zuko in her place.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The moonlight pools in a pale circle on the dark water, perfectly still until Aang lands. His light footsteps cast ripples outwards as he spins Katara for an extra few beats in the air. Her eyes are squeezed shut with laughter as he guides her down gently, but she opens them, a gleam of mischief in their blue depths, and takes the lead as soon as she finds solid footing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aang gladly follows, letting her twirl him out to the end of her arm’s length and bring him back in. They sway together for an easy, quiet moment, with his back to her front and her smile pressed to his shoulder. He feels secure, wrapped up in her embrace, as he always does.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a dream he has often, dancing on the sea with her—it’s one he never tires of. In the back of his mind, he knows she’s sleeping peacefully right next to him, so it’s not like it’s coming from a place of unfulfilled desire, as far as he can tell. They dance together all the time in their home, at fancy Republic City functions, at the Fire Lord’s galas. It’s just nice to steal away this extra secret time with her between night and day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even if it’s not quite the same as in real life, his mind does a pretty good job of conjuring Katara in a sleek sky-blue dress that tapers down one leg, her shoulders bare and her hair cascading in waves down her back. She’s utterly enchanting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She dips him low, and Aang raises a hand to her cheek, his heart so full of love he feels like he could drown in it. “Baby, you’re my moon and stars,” he whispers, watching for the way the corners of her eyes crinkle with a smile as she leans in to kiss him. His own eyes flutter shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something changes at that moment, heats up on his skin, brightens against his face. He doesn’t think much of it until he peeks his right eye open just a crack and gets a close-up look at an unmistakable scar—closer than he’s ever seen it in real life, close enough to see rivulets of pale tissue and faint pockets between rough scarlet ridges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh,” says Zuko.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um,” says Aang.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them moves. Around them, the scenery has turned to a soul-baringly sunny day, the water glittering beneath their feet. Zuko’s hands are where Katara’s were, one supporting Aang’s backwards lean and one resting high up on his thigh, Aang’s other knee raised up to frame Zuko’s side. Golden light, reflecting off the pool, dazzles in Zuko’s wide eyes, which soften little by little with something like gratitude.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, he breaks the stillness of the moment with a somewhat dismayed laugh, letting go of the breath he seemed to be holding. Aang could almost swear he catches a sharp firewhiskey aftertaste brushing warmly over his lips. It’s an oddly specific detail, for a dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fancy meeting you here,” Zuko says, his mouth curving in a rare, secretive smile. “You’re just the person I wanted to see tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something about it rubs against the grain in Aang’s mind, doesn’t quite add up the way it should, but he finds himself laughing, too, settling with ease into the firm hold that shifts to his waist. His own arms naturally find their way to wrap behind Zuko’s neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a lot smoother when I’m asleep, sifu hotman,” he remarks, and if Zuko’s brow furrows momentarily, he doesn’t really think twice about it after Zuko quickly twirls him a few times, catches him again by the hand and shoulder and steps with him in perfect sync.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Briefly, in the back of his mind, he wonders about Katara, but she wasn’t really here, and neither is Zuko. Even if his keen gaze makes Aang feel just as flustered as it does in real life, when he judges Aang’s firebending forms to “keep him sharp.” Even if the hand gliding up his side through the open slit of his robe makes him feel as hot as the sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He loves Katara. If he could love Zuko, too, he would—or, well, he already does, he thinks, but what difference does it make? All he knows is the real Zuko is sleeping soundly on the other side of the world. This can’t do any harm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A little bit of sparring seems to blend naturally into their exchange. Instead of breaking apart to do the full Dancing Dragon, they stay close, trailing rainbow fire from their footsteps and trading precarious kicks around each other’s knees, legs crossing back and forth over one another as they move to and fro. The water doesn’t sizzle when their bending makes contact with it but splashes up into crystallized leaves of amber flame, scattering in their wake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aang ends up in the lead at some point, supporting Zuko’s weight in a high lift and a descending spin, their orange and red robes catching with a friction that might as well make a spark of its own. Several long strands of hair have strayed from Zuko’s topknot, falling messily around his face, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. There’s a simmering, unwavering intensity in his eyes now, never leaving Aang’s face. Aang flings him this way and that, dips him low and whispers, grinning, “Baby, you’re my sun and stars.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zuko smirks invitingly, only to backflip over Aang’s bracing arm before Aang can act further. He lands easily, links his hand with Aang’s again and steps in close and fast to snap one leg up around Aang’s hip. They lean together, an unbroken line of contact from chest to thighs, breathing heavily. The shared hallucination of rhythm and music fades, and the utter brightness of the sky, too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The closeness is so tempting, would make it so easy to kiss Zuko, but Aang decides to let his subconscious decide whether Zuko might make the first move instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you could dance like that,” he says, with just a teasing note of accusation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Zuko snorts, rolls his eyes with a distinctly affectionate exasperation reserved for Aang alone. Unthinkingly, Aang reaches to brush the loose hair back behind Zuko’s ear. His hand lingers gingerly against Zuko’s scar, warm, real, solid. Zuko doesn’t flinch away. Aang expects this dreamed image to melt away at any minute, but it doesn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he loses the nerve, he blurts, “I didn’t know you would ever want to. With me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At that, Zuko chuckles, a self-deprecating sound edged with hopelessness that makes Aang’s heart clench. He closes his eyes and says, seemingly more to himself than Aang, “I knew this was all just stupid wishful thinking. That’s what happens, going to bed after too much to drink. Stupid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyelashes paint delicate, spidery shadows towards the arch of his cheek, shining damply, and his eyebrow digs down into a tense furrow. Aang doesn’t know what to do. This doesn’t make sense anymore—everything was going so well, and he thought that at least in a dream he might get a happy ending. He can’t put his finger on what went wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lost, he bends his head slightly to press his lips to Zuko’s forehead, as the last golden light is swallowed up in the gray dawn all around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Aang blinks slowly awake, the morning sky through the window is the first thing he sees, the first rays of sun stretching up into the receding blue. Katara is snoring gently, facing him, with her hair spilling over half her face. Aang lifts her sleep-heavy hand and works his fingers between hers, bringing her knuckles to his lips to kiss them softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn’t know how long he lies awake there, watching the sun turn the clouds a rosy orange. Normally, he would get up and find somewhere to meditate. But he feels reluctant to leave Katara’s side this morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stays long enough that she wakes up, though he’s sure she’ll doze off again soon enough. She squints at him with a reflexive, familiar smile and rasps, her voice rough with sleep, “What are you looking at me like that for?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The way you always did when you thought I wasn’t watching you, back then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aang laughs, and Katara does too, their breath stirring together between. “I can’t help it. I just love you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm.” Katara scoots closer, snuggling her head under Aang’s chin and draping her arm over him. “Something’s on your mind, though. You always looked at me like that, all in love, ’cause you didn’t know how to tell me yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aang falls quiet. Reading the tension in him, Katara raises her hand to rub his upper arm gently, expectantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had a dream,” he says eventually. “About you…and Zuko.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Katara leans back to look at him sharply. “Sweetie, you know you can’t let the tabloids get to you like that. I love </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” she says, with just a hint of scolding in her voice. “Zuko’s just a good friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aang opens his mouth, then closes it. “Yeah,” he says, pushing down the regret in it. “He is a good friend.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t explain this to her, can’t ask her to understand something that might very well tear them apart. And that dream, as weird and real as it was…there’s just no way that Zuko feels like that, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Katara eventually does slip back into sleep, Aang kisses the crown of her head, carefully disentangles himself, and wanders down to the seashore to practice his firebending forms.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Also inspired by <a href="https://vomara.tumblr.com/post/626301110695690240/if-were-talking-aang-and-zuko-dreamsharing">this</a> post! I've discovered writing dances in detail is way too hard, but picture Aang and Zuko doing some kinda tango here :3</p><p>If you love zutaraang, please check out <a href="https://zutaraangzine.tumblr.com/">the zutaraang zine blog</a> for updates! We've already decided to move forward with the project, but the interest check will remain open until Oct. 31, 2020. Contributor applications open November 15!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. extinguish</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p><a href="https://zutaraangtastic.tumblr.com/post/633542278215041024/if-youre-still-doing-drabbles-heres-an-idea">Prompt asked for nightmares and comfort for Katara.</a> Aang and Zuko meet the same fate as Katara's mother, until Katara wakes up in tears to find them both there for her. (Warning for violence and temporary character death!)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The igloo seems impossibly big before her, its white sheen stained with the ash raining from the heavens. The snow is up to her knees, as small as she is, and the sounds of war clamor for attention behind her: the men shouting, the sickening swish of the burning catapults, the hiss of fire devouring everything in its path.</p><p>Katara hesitates outside, trying to breach the chasm of dread in her stomach and force herself to enter, knowing what awaits her.</p><p>At least, she thinks she knows, until something happens that’s never happened before: a boy comes flying out through the blue curtains with a horrible scream, flung by a red flare inside that she barely glimpses. She runs to where he’s collapsed in the snow, his shaking hands covering his face.</p><p>Through the cracks in his fingers, she sees the raw, seared flesh, and gasps.</p><p>He’s dressed just like the other Fire Nation soldiers, but he’s too young, his armor too big for his shoulders. His head is bare except for a dishevelled ponytail. He’s hurt, badly.</p><p>These things she takes in, paralyzed, before it registers in the back of her mind that she can do something. She can heal. </p><p>Or, she should be able to, but her tiny hands don’t seem to work the way they should; their grasp on the water is too unsteady, and when they reach for his face, he screams again, his fist lashing out in a flaming arc. Katara drops onto her belly, trembling with her eyes squeezed shut, until the near-brush of heat subsides. </p><p>When she peeks up to make sure she’s safe, she notices the overcast sky has changed color, now a murky blood-red crossed by a trail of blazing orange light. </p><p>Then the boy slumps back down, and Katara scrambles away, leaving him to writhe in his agony and returning to her own task with just enough bitter determination to overcome her fear.</p><p>In the igloo, she finds a different man than she expects, this one’s armor adorned with gold, a semblance of wings framing his helmet when he glances over his shoulder at her. There’s another boy, too, a boy in simple orange-and-yellow monk’s robes. He’s even smaller than her, his legs kicking pitifully as the Fire Nation man holds him aloft by the collar.</p><p>“You’re too late, little peasant,” the man says, an oil-slick voice dripping with malice. “The Avatar is mine.”</p><p>It doesn’t make sense, because how can that kid be the Avatar? His tattoos would be glowing white, a radiant, otherworldly bluish-white like she saw in the iceberg when she found him, and that’s the thing that snaps Katara back to herself—the boy, Aang, doesn’t have any tattoos. He’s too young to have earned them yet.</p><p>He looks at her with wide gray eyes, pleading for help, but she’s still too small, too weak to fling more than a puddle of water at the Fire Lord’s boots.</p><p><em> Wake up </em> , she tells herself. <em> It’s not real, wake up, it didn’t happen like this, you’re safe, they’re safe, just wake up </em>—</p><p>But she can’t, try as she might. She can’t even look away as Ozai throws a fiery punch into Aang’s face, even as everything inside her lurches with fury, with horror, with dismay. Aang howls, the same cry that Zuko made, as instinctual and vulnerable as a wounded animal. And Zuko, spirits, Zuko’s out there alone and she has to do something!</p><p>Too much happens all at once, Ozai roaring victorious fire and the igloo crumbling all around them and a crimson cloud gathering overhead and an awful static crackling in Azula’s hands—no, Ozai’s, but familiar white-hot lightning, and he’s going to strike them at the same time and there’s no way for Katara to shield them both—</p><p>Until her waterbending returns, and without even thinking, she surges into Ozai’s blood and freezes him from the inside out. His last, choked breath comes out a red mist.</p><p>Katara falls to her knees, overwhelmed and hanging onto the adrenaline just to crawl to Aang and carry him to Zuko. She’s fully herself again, not the little girl she was when the raid happened, but the two of them are still just kids, even smaller in her grasp now. When she lays them next to each other, she notices the symmetry of their fresh burns, and a nauseous weight of understanding churns in her.</p><p>Snowmelt coats her hands in a shimmering, glowing blue, ready to heal, until she realizes neither boy’s chest is rising or falling. Katara fumbles to feel their pulses, uselessly; Zuko is too cold, no trace of fire left in him, and Aang is so still, the joyful breath that animated him stolen by the sharpening wind.</p><p>“Wake up,” she whispers, not certain who she’s talking to. She presses her palms flat to their hearts, water seeping through together with her tears, to no avail. Between her blurry eyes and the gathering storm around them, everything is growing dim.</p><p>“Wake up. Wake up. <em> Wake up, Katara, you’re— </em>”</p><p>She bolts upright with a sharp gasp, her head spinning in the disorienting dark of the room. Real tears are flowing sickly-hot down her cheeks, sticking wetly to her chin, even her ears. She almost can’t suck in enough air, her chest wracked with sobs, disrupting every attempt to steady herself.</p><p>“Katara,” Aang says again, and she nearly jumps, reflexively whipping water from her nearby satchel to catch the hand reaching for her in an icy grip. “Ow—Katara, it’s okay! It’s just me. It’s me.”</p><p>To the other side of Aang, Zuko stirs, mumbling in confusion. Katara barely has the presence of mind to return the water to its container before she throws herself into Aang, wrapping her arms tightly around him. With her ear pressed to his chest, she can hear his heartbeat, feel his breathing like the rush of a sea breeze. A tentative hand meets hers on Aang’s back, and she raises her head to Aang’s shoulder to look at Zuko, twining her fingers with his. His skin is warm, faintly damp with sweat. He reaches behind him to light the candle on the bedside table with a snap, and the soft orange glow haloes around him, permeating the shadows of the room.</p><p>Aang presses a kiss to the top of Katara’s head, cupping her cheek and brushing away the tears on one side. “Was it a nightmare?” he asks.</p><p>She can only nod, not trusting herself to speak. He folds her into his embrace just a little harder.</p><p>“I get them too, around this time of year,” he admits. When she remains silent except for her sniffles, he adds softly, “Ones where we lose. Or we win but I lose you, or Zuko.”</p><p>“That makes three of us,” Zuko says, his voice hushed. He turns his face against her hand, the scarred side. It’s one of the most intimate gestures they share, open and vulnerable, but this time it makes Katara flinch, half-expecting raw, oozing skin in place of the long-healed tissue. Zuko catches her recoil and draws back himself, his brow furrowed with uncertain concern. “Sorry, I can…leave you with Aang, if that’s better?”</p><p>Katara shakes her head quickly and extends her arm, beckoning him to her side instead. Aang shifts with her towards the middle of the bed to make room. Zuko still hesitates, sitting beside Katara with his knees drawn up.</p><p>“I understand if it was about—I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to see me right now.”</p><p>“<em> Zuko </em>,” Aang says, half-regret and half-reprimand, at the same time that Katara takes Zuko by the shoulder and pulls him into their hug.</p><p>Hoarsely, she manages to say, “That wasn’t it.”</p><p>A patient quiet presides over them as Zuko’s arms finally settle around her waist and Aang’s fingers wind through her hair. Katara’s breathing eventually evens out, her tears slowing. There’s still an awful feeling inside her, a violent terror in the pit of her stomach.</p><p>“It was…” She steels herself, curling one fist so her nails bite crescents into her palm, until Aang stops her gently. Katara picks a spot on the far wall to keep her attention and continues, “It was like the nightmare I always have, about my mom. But Yon Rha wasn’t there, and neither was she. It was the two of you—” she lays her other hand over Zuko’s and squeezes his knuckles, hearing his apprehensive swallow “—and Ozai. And he…burned you, and you were so young—we were, and then I wasn’t, but you both were just kids and you were helpless and hurt and I couldn’t do anything before it was too late and—”</p><p>The panic is rising in her chest again, threatening to overflow, and Zuko tries to hold tighter to ground her, but it’s too much, Aang’s look of frantic worry is too much, and Katara suddenly needs not to be touched or she might break something. She hurriedly disentangles herself and slides away to sit at the edge of the bed, raising a hand to let Aang and Zuko know to give her space.</p><p>After a moment, she manages to quell the nausea, her gasps fading. She’s crying again, but her eyes are too dry now, making it harder to get the tears out. Mostly, she’s annoyed by the thought of how puffy her face will be in the morning, and how much she’s overreacting in front of Zuko and Aang. Katara lets out a shuddering exhale and stands, smoothing down her nightgown and going to open the window. The tang of the ocean clears her head, blessedly wakes her from the nightmarish haze. The half-moon tilted low in the sky is serene.</p><p>She gives a silent thanks to Yue before she looks back at her husbands, who lean together on the bed, obviously trying to seem calm despite the visible tension in their joined hands. It makes Katara smile weakly and gesture for them to follow her. They pad to the kitchen together on three sets of tiptoeing feet, extra careful as they pass Bumi and Kya’s room.</p><p>Zuko puts on a pot of tea without being asked, and Katara pulls herself up on the counter beside him with a strained noise that immediately reminds her she’s too old for it. Aang suppresses a laugh and approaches, after she nods, to massage her lower back.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I didn’t mean to push you guys away.”</p><p>Zuko scoffs, though not meanly, giving Katara a skeptical eye. “Why are <em> you </em> sorry? We’re the ones who didn’t do anything to help.”</p><p>Katara kicks his thigh, though not hard. “Don’t say that. It helped that you were both there with me. If I was alone, or even if it was just me and Aang, I would’ve been so anxious.”</p><p>Aang bows his head against her chest, his sigh brushing against fabric. “Still, it’s—it’s hard, not being able to make things better. I guess that’s what your dream was like, too?”</p><p>“Yeah,” Katara says, but before she can start dwelling on it again, Zuko ushers her and Aang away from the counter so he can finish preparing the tea.</p><p>He brings it to them at the table with a generous helping of milk stirred in, and it’s exactly the right thing to soothe the lingering unease in her stomach. Aang sits across from her, leaving Zuko the spot next to her. Katara leans her head on his shoulder after she downs her cup, willing away the flashes of lightning on the backs of her eyelids.</p><p>“You think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?” Zuko asks. His foot is tangled with hers and Aang’s under the table.</p><p>“I think so.” Katara offers him a smile and a peck on the cheek. “The tea helped, Mr. Jasmine Dragon Jr.”</p><p>“Speaking of, when are you heading off to see Uncle?” Aang asks.</p><p>Zuko has abandoned his own cup in favor of playing with Katara’s hair, gathering it into haphazard braids that she subtly shakes out as soon as he looks away. “I’ll stay here another few days, at least.”</p><p>“Good,” she says. “We’ll have each other if anyone has another anniversary nightmare.”</p><p>Leaving their dishes at their places, they find their way back to bed. Katara claims the middle this time. She’s on her side, facing the moon and Zuko, with Aang’s sturdy chest against her back. Touch is welcome now. Aang spends a long time tracing patterns on her back, continuing his earlier massage as he goes, until he starts to drift off.</p><p>“Let us know if you need anything,” he says, stifling a yawn and kissing her cheek.</p><p>“Mm. There is one thing, actually,” Katara murmurs. “Your head wasn’t shaved before you were banished, was it, Zuko?”</p><p>Zuko’s brow furrows, but he shakes his head. “No. I mean, it was after the agni kai, but before I left.”</p><p>“And Aang didn’t get his tattoos until he was twelve.”</p><p>Aang confirms this with a sleepy mumble addressed to the back of her head. Zuko is kneading her leg, her hip, her side, working the last tension out of her muscles.</p><p>“Why do you ask?”</p><p>“That’s how I know it wasn’t real,” Katara says, blinking slowly at him. “That’s how I’ll remember, if it happens again.”</p><p>Consciously or not, Aang curls his arm more protectively around her stomach. Zuko lets her pillow her cheek in his palm and eases closer to kiss her. She drapes her leg over his to keep him there, his warm breath mingling with hers and his other hand resting over her back. Once he’s joined Aang in slumber, her eyes finally fall shut. Their hands are soft, tangible, and the sharpest burning details of the nightmare start to fade to cinders at the edges of her mind.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A final thanks to everyone who sent in prompts this summer, it was a blast writing these! And thank you also to everyone for reading! Let me know which ficlet was your fave :))</p><p>For more awesome zutaraang stuff, including a soon-coming expanded drabble challenge, feel free to follow <a href="https://zutaraangtastic.tumblr.com/">@zutaraangtastic</a>! Also, <a href="https://zutaraangzine.tumblr.com/">this blog</a> is your place for updates re: the zutaraang zine, if you're interested in that. Contributor applications open Nov. 15!</p>
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